Dick whisked the sofa away before Jerel could set it on fire, but the tv, the battered coffee table, all the kitchen appliances, the bed--everything's gone. He'd donated most of the little stuff to charity shops--not sure who'd buy them, but someone should use them--and left the rest on the street for some passerby.

All he has left of this place is the clothes in the big-ass bag at his feet.

And the key.

He looks down at the key in his hand. Once he puts that in the envelope waiting for it, slips it under his landlord's door--that's it. He's out. There's no way to get it back, the landlord hates him. And it's a real commitment. He's giving up his apartment and moving in with his--mate. His boyfriend. His lover.

Dick pulls into the parking lot of Jerel's, soon to be ex, apartment and cheerfully locks the doors to the car. He thought he would take some of the four-wheelers since motorbikes aren't the best for hauling shit across the city and he has no idea how much stuff Jerel'll have with him. He has a hunch, but he's not sure. Best to be safe, not sorry.

He's practically whistling by the time he reaches the top of the stairs and gets to Jerel's door. There, he finds Jerel looking at the apartment. Just staring. Dick slides in beside him.

Dick wraps himself around Jerel from behind and buries his nose in the crook of Jerel's neck, looking up to the apartment. "I'm gonna miss this place," he admits. And he will, immensely. This is where he fell in love, really. This is pure Jerel, his habitat.

Dick feigns a shiver that turns into a real one. "Ooh," he purrs. "I love it when you talk about your plots and schemes when they involve me. Talk more about me." He pokes Jerel in the stomach playfully.

Jerel faces him and nods. "This /is/ it, you know. If you wanna back out--if you've got any doubts--this is the moment. While this key's still in my hand. I can get my stuff back, get my job back." He swallows hard.

Jerel basically throws himself into Dick's arms and kisses him, then, wild and happy. Then he picks up his bag and heads down the stairs, slipping the key under his landlord's door, and walking out of the apartment block.

"One of Bruce's," Dick explains. "He likes to collect. He can drive, but he can't do it outside of the manor grounds. He lets us use the cars, so long as we don't mess them up." Dick laughs a little. "When I was, like, seventeen I drove a Rolls into a tree. Man, he was so /mad/."

"No," Dick laughs and pulls out of the car park. "It was practically totalled. I wasn't allowed out for, fuck, two weeks or something? It kind of puttered out when the next full moon came around and I had to go shift and stuff. Still have parts of the old thing in the main garage, though. Ended up talking Bruce into seeing it as a good thing, since we could use bits of it to fix up better cars. Total bullshit and he knew it, though." Dick winks at Jerel.

Jerel sits forward and strokes the dash of the car. "Don't worry, baby, I won't let him do that to you, poor thing." He grins at Dick. "It's a wonder Bruce ever let you drive again. And on a motorbike, too! You coulda snapped your neck on one of those, wrapped around a tree."

"So long we don't die straight away, sure," Dick shrugs. "It has to be something pretty intense to break any of our bones as well, I think. Another were doing it or something that powerful. And it depends on the power level of the were."

"Faster than most," Dick says, thinking about it. "But I think that's because I work out a lot and spend one hell of a lot of time with other weres. Don't think that has anything to do with my level or anything." He drives silently for a bit. "But I'm not sure where I rank in any pard any longer. I haven't been part of a pard properly in a long time."

"Then I can start calling you Fabio and look utterly dramatic all the time," Dick says. "This was my plan all along. We could get you working in a stables or something and it'll be," Dick sighs deeply, joking. "So perfect."

Dick sighs. "Yeah, I know. There were some horses in the circus that were used to weres, though, that was cool," he frowns a little, thinking. "If I remember correctly. I might be wrong there. But we can still put you in the stables and rough you up some, then fuck like maniacs in the hay."

Dick drops his hand from the stick to cover Jerel's hand. "Yeah, I thought so. This is obviously after we spend a week in bed," Dick winks at him again. "See, I got this all planned out. And it rests solely on you never cutting your hair."

Dick jerks his thumb to the back seat, where his coat is thrown. "Take out my wallet and look inside. There's a picture of me with long hair in there," he runs a hand through his own. "If you like it, I'll grow mind out again and we'll be all romance-novel-y together."

Dick laughs. "Everyone hated that cut," he says. "Had to get rid of it. But if you like it..." Dick actually cut his hair in a weird effort to help himself get over Roy, who loved his hair when he wasn't teasing Dick about it.